Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Annabelle: Paige I saw you last night.
Paige: What do you mean?
Annabelle: I saw you, you don’t have to act like you don’t know what I’m talking about.
Paige: Whatever, you might have seen me, but I don’t have to tell you anything.
Annabelle: Hm. Well now I’m beginning to believe there is something I should know- I was just going to assume you were out tracking a constellation of stars or waiting for some kind of rare comet sighting, continuing your research as usual, feeding your relentlessly hungry IQ.
Paige: Well you’re right about that actually.
Annabelle: I don’t know Paige, I think your life just got a lot more interesting…Or at least from my perspective. What were you doing out there? It was nearly 4 in the morning…?
Paige: Gosh, I’ve been able to keep you and mom out of my business all this time, and now? I’m so close to being out of here! This is ridiculous, you better just drop it and leave me alone.
Annabelle: I don’t know why you have such a huge problem with me Paige, I am your big sister, maybe it’s time we start acting like sisters, maybe it’s time I start being a role model for you, allowing you to confide in me.
Paige: Ha! A role model for me? I’d rather be caught dead than be walking through life with your ungrateful demeanor, nothing about you is anything I’d want to be.
Annabelle: Please. You seem so fussy though when mom favors me, isn’t that something you wish you had? I mean it’s just so painfully obvious, and when I say painful- I mean, you really appear to be in pain…
Paige: Ya, right. Pain is far from the mere frustration I feel… in that I am simply not equal under the law of this home.
Annabelle: Come on Paige, don’t think I don’t notice Mom’s bullshit motive in ignoring you. I can see now, that it’s not you…it’s her…and I know why.
Paige: Wow, I didn’t think you were capable of that…
Annabelle: Capable of what?
Paige: Looking at someone outside of yourself.
Annabelle: Well, you’re not the only one trying to go about your business without the noses of others in your way. I do what I need to do to play my part, and play to the level expected. You don’t always accomplish the most by being the insightful child. Sometimes you just have to know your role.
Paige: Well, you’re giving mom all the excuses in the world to ignore what she is responsible for. In her mind, your overwhelming neediness and drama keeps her occupied being a “mother” While I am just, well…not a problem I guess! But maybe I should start giving her a run for her money, ya know, start tugging just as hard on the other arm… drive her mad! Madder than she already is!
Annabelle: You don’t want to do that Paige, it’s not worth it. Stick it out, you’ll be 18 before you know it. And who knows… this big ugly secret might just blow over if and when you decide to flip your lid and let it be known.
Paige: I can’t believe it. You know about this, how long have you known about this?
Annabelle: Paige, you can confide in me… I haven’t told a soul.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

I responded most to the last piece, being Nick’s, because I felt the character development throughout the piece was not forced. There was a beginning, middle and end that arched the plays’ entirety, where I felt I had a clear understanding of each character’s wants and needs. The dynamics between Ellen and Roderick were clear and concise, something that I felt was lacking in comparison to the plays prior. Also, I felt the intensity of the more dramatic moments were based on characters needs, as oppose to the influences of drama (for the sake of having dramatic moments) itself. The moments where Roderick mentioned wanting to pet Ellen, as he pets a dog in hopes that she would then want to be her friend was a precise, secluded moment into his character, which I felt was previously hinted at through his use of barking whenever his doorbell rang as well as the moments where he felt a need to rely on the ownership of dogs as an excuse for his being absent and/or unavailable. For the concept of peeling back layers as a way to define a character, and find out more about what drives them, I found that Nick’s piece had a well-balanced approach between drama and dialogue, which is something that I’m continuously working with in my pieces.

The play that I’m currently working with seems to rely on the relationships between each character, as well as the weight in their past experiences in comparison to their current situations. The problems of what each character is specifically after, as well as where their voice fits in with the overall concept of the play is what I am constantly grappling with. I am having a hard time allowing each character their space to speak, and more so, what it is they are yearning to get across to the characters around them. The location is set in Hawai’i, specifically North Shore on the island of O’ahu. The area is far away from the influences of town and/or tourism and certain parts of that area on the island lack electricity. The idea of ‘He Hale Kou’ which translates into ‘you have a house’ invites the sense that each character has played a part in building a house on a remote part of an island that they can each return to at any point in their lives, under the condition that only the four of them that built it in the beginning have access to it’s insides. The areas I feel allow the most exploration are about what time period the characters are in, as well as what they will do with/do each other, that will affect the shared space of the house overall.

Do a one or two paragraph written response to seeing the Fringe plays. Answer any or all of the following:

- Which piece did you most respond to? Why?

Honestly, I responded to Nick’s piece the most because there was a natural pace to the progression of the relationship. It was charming and sweet. It also mixed visual indicators of progression that served just as strongly as the dialogue to show growth, such as the light bulb and the coffee.The man with Asperger’s was strange enough but funny enough to hold onto my interest while still remaining believable and definitely enjoyable The other pieces worked.The theme of the first piece compelled me to reflect on honesty and the politics of truth. The images in the second piece fit the slow piece and though it was not the most engaging piece, I still was drawn into the silent world of the unhappy couple.The dancing and live video feed assisted the dynamism of the silence, so that action manifested in a different way other than plot.

In addition, do a one-paragraph summary of the piece you're working on in class.

Pedro is coming back. I’m going to play with extending the piece, though I am happy with it as a one-act. There’s more I’d like to go into…especially Pedro and his struggle with identity and abandonment.I’d like to include more “real” or serious (though funny) conversations with his mother and perhaps even more confrontation on his father’s part, to try to encourage him to be a better man (and grow up). Though the piece works with its original arch, I think it could go deeper into cultural issues within the Latino community, such as absentee fathers and children being raised on illusions of success instead of true, personal success. I think I’m going to have the parents pester him a little more; Mami, in reality, and Papi, in a fantastical way. Hopefully, it’s not too forced, but it’s already set up for more and I would like to explore.

1. I thought “The Ballad of 423 and 424” and “Brave, Battling Autism” were two plays that really captured my imagination for the stage. In “Brave, Battling Autism” the use of silence and movement were surprising because it took me to an uncomfortable place. I wanted to here them say something, but when they didn’t I was more focused on the little details: the way he kept fiddling with his hands, the way she looked at him. And then they danced and conveyed so much information about their relationship than what words can. The Character of the MC was really compelling because she was speaking Spanish (which I know very little of) and held this camera that zoomed in on those physical details. Why was she there? Why was she needed?
For “The Ballad of 423 and 424” I thought the use of set and light were truly effective in portraying Ellen and Roderick’s relationship. The doors at the end of the play, when they were opened, was such a strong image for me because it gave me a visual space where I can see the change of the story. It left me wondering if those doors will ever be closed.

2. The relationship between Angie and Boy is a sibling affair with this “ideal” couple of Carol and Mike causing the action and drama. While I was writing the rest of this one act play, Carol and Mike became really strong characters that further developed into Angie and the Boy’s relationship. The lie Angie told that her and the Boy are getting married gets to be the base for other lies and secrets, and for me, it allowed the characters to explore their carnal desires and wants. One of the problems I have is to effectively tie in certain themes into the play…like the theme of being someone or something else (reincarnation). I find that theme strong in all four characters: Angie, Boy, Carol, and Mike.

Monday, October 18, 2010

After seeing three one-act plays at The Fringe, I realized that I responded most to The Ballad of 423 and 424. I felt that the dynamic between Ellen and Roderick was established effectively at the beginning—Roderick as Ellen’s struggling neighbor, Ellen as Roderick’s slightly beleaguered love interest. We later discover that Roderick has Aspberger’s. Roderick clearly is infatuated with Ellen, and she is dealing with her own bouts of loneliness and loss, and these issues were some of the reasons that the characters had a hard time connecting initially .
I felt that the writing and direction moved the pace along beautifully. The tensions created in the cat-and-mouse game between Roderick and Ellen was at once believable, heartbreaking and hilarious. There were surprising moments sprinkled throughout the play. When Ellen brought over the Easter meal, I thought for sure the characters were going to connect, but of course Roderick became shy and retreated to his apartment.
An interesting part of their dynamic was that the characters went back and forth between needing one another—the kind of interdependence that develops over time between people—and running away due to fear of intimacy and the scariness of expectations. I particularly enjoyed how the play ended—on the note of openness and possibility for both characters. Perhaps there may be a future of some kind of Roderick and Ellen. Or maybe, the possibility of a nurturing friendship is really at the heart of this engaging work.

Safiya Martinez
CW 602—Professor Conboy
Response to In-progress work

2. In addition, do a one-paragraph summary of the piece you're working on in class. Just try to sum up how the piece is developing for you. How are the characters and stories developing. What do you see as the opportunities for more exploration in the piece. Where do you think you're having problems?

I am working on scenes that are intended for a one-woman show based on my life as a first-year teacher in New York City. The piece see-saws between two perspectives: life at school, the teachers’ personal life. In the world of school, I embody different characters, mostly students. In scenes and monologues I act out student fears, anxieties and frustrations. I also seek to give voice to their hopes and innate intelligence. I am working on new sections to bring my own voice forward, and these have been some of the more challenging scenes to write. Interestingly enough, many of the characters to emerge initially were male voices, and it’s been a lot of fun getting in touch with what makes a middle school boy tick, and dramatizing that for the stage.
I also had a great time with Vanessa, a character who is a thirteen-year old girl in the seventh grade. She has, in my opinion a lot of righteous anger at the world, at her school and at the boys in the school who in some ways, do run the show. At this point, what I want to work on is finding my story arc. I have been working on this project for nine months, and have lots of scenes. Several of which fit well together, but I still don’t have the more elusive component: the thematic or structural glue that holds them together. I hope that as I continue to write, some of the opacity I’m dealing with at this stage in the writing process clears up a bit. However, I remain excited and ready to move forward with these stories.

Sunday, October 10, 2010

But you're the owner of your fingers, I mean if I were with you, I'm just saying, don't think I wanna be with you I mean it would be so awkward. I mean it's not that you're not attractive in a positive way I mean to me you're positive you're attractive I mean I like your fingers they're thin and gracious especially your thumb it seems vigorous and soft but I think you should do what the fuck (she says it to show him she can use bad words, it sounds fake) you want with your body because you have an elegant gesture and anyway I think I'm homophobic I mean homosexual

LUIS

Oh that's cool are you seeing anyone?

LORI

No, I'm available. I mean I saw Katharine Hepburn in a sitcom the other day and also Venus Williams holding her racket up in the air when she won game set and match ; and Patti Smith on youtube and I know I'm an homosexual. But I mean... I'm open you know. If you wanna have a coffee sometimes I know this place it's a beautiful bench in a Park the bench is green and the Park is green and I love Nature, do you love Nature?

LUIS

Definitely. We should go hiking sometimes, it would be fun.

LORI

OH YES. Give me your number I'll send you a message in a text Friday night around 7 when it's week end time!

LUIS

Sure. 360 985 9663. I'm kind of flaky, I'll try to call you back but you know I spend a lot of time with Myriam and she's pretty jealous.

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Why do you keep after me Tom. I’m not some bloody hare pinned between the posts, now am I? I won’t be beholden to any man. You’re probably thinkin’ “Well after all, ain’t she beholden to all them blokes what comes here to see her?” I’m not you know. It’s just a kind of...arrangement. That’s all. It’s like buyin’ an apple at the grocer you understand. They gives me what I need to take care of the nipper and me–an somes for Gerte mind you–but they won’t have a piece of me.
(Long pause) I was just fifteen when I had the nipper. I was workin’ for a family in Gloucester-- Fetchin’ this, cookin that, tidying up after all those that was too lazy to put their own pot on to boil. I was grateful, mind, comin’ from the orphanage and all.
His name was Johnny, wasn’t it–bloody joke that is–when he found out I was gonna have the nipper he up and left without so much as a “by your leave.” Not a word ta nobody. Well, they wasn’t gonna have me around in that state, was they? I had ta make me own way then, didn’t I? Gerte was the only person what showed us the least bit a concern. Little Julie’s me only concern now. I don’t know that I’ll ever see the likes of a decent life, but she deserves better ya understand.
You don’t really love me Tom......it’s just...... ya never had no one be really kind to ya. Have ya Tom. It’s not me ya need. Ya want ta call me your own but...I won’t ever be yours, ya understand.
(Long pause) Thanks for fixin’ me shoes, luv......Tom......thanks.

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Characters:Sally – a young girl (about 8 or so) who has been diagnosed with a serious illness.Friend – Sally’s imaginary friend that Richard (her father) cannot see or hear. Friend wears a doctor’s costume that looks too large, like a child playing dress-up.

FRIENDWhat do you want to do?

SALLY(A little tired.) I don’t know. What do you want to do?

FRIENDI asked first!

SALLYI don’t know.

FRIENDDo you want to play anything?

SALLYNot really.

FRIENDYou’re boring.

SALLYI just don’t feel up to playing.

FRIENDBor – ring! Come on – let’s play!

SALLYPlay what?

FRIENDUhh… Tag! Let’s play tag!

SALLYI’m tired. I don’t want to play now.

FRIENDUgh! Come on – you have to!

SALLYWhy?

FRIENDBecause if you don’t I’ll sneak downstairs and tip over the fish bowl and tell Richard it was you who did it!

FRIENDRichard loves his stupid fish more than he loves you because he only has to feed his fish once a day – and he actually has to take care of you. He has to take you to the doctors’, and refill your prescriptions, and make sure –

SALLYOkay – okay – okay. I get it.

FRIENDDo I get a prize now?

SALLYWhat?

FRIENDDo I get a –

SALLYFor what?

FRIENDFor answering the question correctly?

SALLYNo.

FRIENDAwww . . . (Pause.) Oh! Oh! I know this one! I know it!

SALLYWhat now?

FRIENDPick me! Pick –

SALLYYou!

FRIENDI know how you can get Richard to love you more.

SALLYHow?

FRIENDYou could go away.

SALLYWhat do you mean?

FRIENDYou could go away. Like Mommy did.

SALLY(Pause.) Couldn’t I just . . . run away, or something?

FRIENDNope. If you did that, they would just find you and bring you back.

SALLYWell . . . how . . . how would I –

FRIENDThere’s lots of ways.

SALLYLike?

FRIENDOh! Oh! I know –

SALLYYou!

FRIENDStop taking your medication.

SALLYDad would never let me stop –

FRIENDYou don’t know! You should ask! See what he says.

SALLYI don’t know.

FRIENDOh come on! What are you so scared of, Sally? Oh – that could be your new nickname! Scared Sally! Scared Sally!

Susan tells the girls she is headed out to see her esthetician for a waxing. However in the next scene, we see her sitting on a leather sofa ranting to her shrink, Dr. Gawken.

I told Richard he has to take the girls on his next trip to the Bahamas. The money just isn’t enough to keep them happy, as much as it is for me-- I’m just concerned they need more of a tangible investment from him, like actually being a father.
I can’t imagine being up against his whiny wife. That whiny, skinny, demented, childlike doll figure, oh god it just makes me nauseous….
And while I’m on the subject of sickening disappointments- Annabelle is kissing girls and Paige doesn’t do anything but stay home and read… Sometimes on the patio though… Paige will read in the sun and peel tangerines. And I look at Paige’s life, so normal, or how she manages to appear so normal- as she deals with her obnoxiously vein and unfair mother1 … but who doesn’t to some degree? My mom stayed home most of my life, very ill, while I shed sweat and tears caring for her, and then she left me- she took her own life and I hate her for that.
So unless I suddenly decide to kill myself from this island of riches, I’d say I’ve done a damn good job for my girls. I don’t know though, there are times when I catch Paige looking at me, looking into me like she really could kill me…and it’s as if she knows Richard isn’t her father- that I’ve been lying to her all this time, time stops and I feel that lump of guilt I’ve been telling you about…. swelling in my throat.

I always worry if I look right at her, she’ll read it all over my face…

And I guess I could shut my mouth and stop embarrassing her… but shit…I talk the way I talk because she needs to hear it, just like anyone deserves to know the pain before the blind-sided crash. Life isn’t peachy out there for anyone. She acts all smart and proper, and calm, rolling her eyes at our dysfunctional family, when really – that “functional” family she thinks is out there...Ya, that family doesn’t exist.
It’s just me, that’s all she’s got! And Richard, the one she says she most relates to, well all be damned- good for her. And I’ll really be damned if he ever finds out about this.
Lucky for me the biological father doesn’t have a clue and could be dead for all I know, so that leaves the only other known resource to be …..my own relentless conscience. And I really just wish it would let me fucking sleep- that reminds me, I’m here because I need a re-fill on my Ambien…

BOY
The only time I can really recall missing someone was my second day in first grade. My mom dropped me off…I met my friends…I forgot what I did with them…but I remembered I smiled. I smiled a lot. Wide, child-like smiles…smiles that I can not replicate at this age even if I’m truly happy or excited or in the mood to smile. And at that moment, with my friends, that wide, child-like smile existed. But right before class, and I don’t know why right before, I started thinking about my mom. I started thinking about her white hair among her old black hair…how it was so easy to pluck the white strands from their roots. And how every time I plucked a black one, she would squeak, “ouch”. Just “ouch” as if she was mimicking my voice. A baby mouse‘s voice. So…I missed her. And it wasn’t so much she wasn’t there that really bothered me…it was more of a realization that someday everyone I know will go away…and that I couldn’t handle that thought…granted I was in first grade…but I pictured myself as a king back then. A relatively strong king...armed with a sword made from sapphire. And I cried. I cried because I had no control of what would happen to the ones I know. I cried because that realization would come again in some shape or form.
(pause. Angie enters mimicking the previous night)
It was 2:46 in morning when I woke up to Angie searching the dark for something. The only thing I could really see was her white tank-top. She’s darting from corner to corner. RELAX! But I couldn’t say that and she kept moving, trying to walk quietly but only creating more precise sounds of feet to floor. And then she got on her knees.
(beat)
And I can’t explain this, but she started scratching the floorboards.
(beat)
Digging with her index finger on a single spot of the wood as if relieving it of an itch. That’s all I heard…all night long…stch, stch, stch, stch, stch. What the hell is that? Tell me. What are you looking for? Is this an act of pain? Is your way burying your sins, your anger? Because I don’t buy it. Would I miss you? Would I die for you? You. This.
(pause. Angie looks up at the boy but remains in her present moment. He directing his voice to her.)
I believe in reincarnation, Angie. Not the reincarnation with any religious undertones. Just…I believe that when you die you have a chance to be something else. Anything. And if I had to choose I wouldn’t choose any physical being. I’d choose an abstract. Something invisible. Something you can feel without really understanding it…something that you have to label in order to grasp a concrete thought. I want to be reincarnated into love. The rawness of love. And I don’t mean material love, or lover’s love, or parental love, or sibling love, or God’s love. Only a pure feeling. No explanation required. I want to understand what we do and why we do it, without a question…k…and without an answer.
(two knocks on the door. Angie slowly creeps away as the boy follows her with his stare)
Futon people.
(two knocks on the door)
Okay! I’m coming.

HARP
Your most recent book, “Sane In The City” is in San Francisco bookstores now. Can you tell us a little bit about it?

EVA
All the stories revolve around the people living in the Nick Buena Apartments downtown.
HARP
Tell us about it.

EVA
It’s a 350-unit apartment complex located downtown.

HARP
Single Resident Occupancies…?

EVA
Well, yes and no. They’re like SRO’s because they’re small economy-sized apartments but the government provides minimal assistance. Like tax breaks--most of the residents are single adults with low incomes. (Make a quote on quote sign w/ both hands when saying “low”)

HARP
Students? Artists?

EVA
No. Mostly working adults with full-time, some part-time jobs.

HARP
Interesting. I know you used to live in San Francisco…

EVA
I did. When I first graduated from college, I lived in a similar type of building and even though I was tired all the time from working full-time, I always had ideas festering in my head…

HARP
You say festering? Why? Was that a difficult situation?

EVA
Sure. In college I served as editor for the schools literary magazine. And lots of kids wrote about city life. Although I had been writing about city life even before I started to review their pieces.

HARP
Wow. Okay...so what was it for you that pushed you to take on the subject that so many people were already writing about?

EVA
Well, it was only so many in the sense that it was a common theme amongst college students. But in real life, there weren’t any books out there about the realities of downtown living. Plus, I thought I had a rather unique perspective.

HARP
Can you tell us more about that?

EVA
I lived just feet away from the Bay Bridge. Sure, we had double-payne windows that minimized the noise, but sometimes you couldn’t help but want to open the window.

HARP
(Laughs) Right. You wrote, That Thing! That Bridge. It got some very good reviews. What are you expecting from this next book?

EVA
Well, naturally I’m hoping my circle of readers will expand. And I’m hoping that those who enjoyed my first book will pick up this latest one.

AUDIENCE I
I really enjoyed your first book. Especially how each character struggled with surviving in those difficult conditions. You managed to capture some original voices. I can’t want to read this next one.

EVA
Thank you. I worked especially hard on this latest book and tried to create even more characters that everyone could relate to as well.

AUDIENCE II
Yeah, I agree with what him/her. I can’t wait to start on this next book. Isn’t there are character who ends up playing for the Giants? Was that inspired by any real-life players? And are you a Giants fan?

EVA
(Laughs) Not until I started researching. A lot of my work comes from real life. There are some writers who say absolutely nothing comes from real life. And that’s something I’m thinking about too—as far as where I’d like to possibly take my work.

AUDIENCE III
Maybe venturing into science fiction?

EVA
I’ve thought about it. In college, I wrote some pretty descent sci-fi pieces. Jack London, one of my favorite fiction writers, wrote some pretty impressive sci-fi. He was born in San Francisco, in the same exact area where I used to live.

AUDIENCE I
Yes, right up from AT&T Park. On 3rd Street. There’s a plaque on the building that says he was born there. Of course the original building was wrecked in a fire.

EVA
Right. I’ve been there too.

HARP
(Gets up from seat)
We’d better start setting up the book signing booth. Since there aren’t too many people yet, we could probably continue questions from there. If you don’t mind. It’s all informal for now.

I believe in two people having their own thing and sharing a bed.That’s what we do.I teach and dance but at the end of the day, my husband knows I’m coming back to him. Sometimes we share stuff, sometimes he sees my shows. Most of the time, we just hold each other, after sex.Is that what you wanted to know.

POLICEMAN

It’s kind of helpful. Does your husband share his passions with you?

LADY

Oh, he has passion, no doubt about that.

POLICEMAN

What does he do?

LADY

He works.And he likes to fight—

POLICEMAN

Fight?

LADY

MMA. And boxing. I go see his fights sometimes. When I’m not in a show.

POLICEMAN

Would you say you’re best friends?

LADY

Excuse me?

POLICEMAN

Do you and your husband—are you and your husband close?

LADY

Of course, don’t nobody else do what we do with each other.

POLICEMAN

Are you sure about that?

LADY

Sir, what are you asking me?If you want to know if he tells me every second of his day, the answer is hell no. I don’t need to know.He shares his emotions when he needs to, I share mines. And we, you know, fuck it out. And fight sometimes, and pray too. But mostly we just relax. That’s how we support each other. He is not my everything. I am not his everything. But we are each other’s.

POLICEMAN

Do you know he kills people. And sells drugs.

LADY

We each have our own thing.

POLICEMAN

You don’t mind?

LADY

If what you’re saying is true, I don’t see how that automatically makes him a bad person.Don’t you kill people?

POLICEMAN

It’s not exactly the same thing.

LADY

So, what, if my husband joined the arm forces, or the police, he’d all of a sudden not be a murderer.What is the definition of murder, sir?

POLICEMAN

I think we misunderstand each other…

LADY

I think you don’t understand. You think wars are only official if they’re legal.

POLICEMAN

What if I told you, your husband cheated on you?

LADY

He wouldn’t do that.

POLICEMAN

What if I had proof? Would you think he was bad?

LADY

It wouldn’t make him a bad person…maybe a bad husband, but not a bad person… Just like the other stuff…maybe it makes him a bad citizen, but he is no worse than you and I.

POLICEMAN

We have proof of him spending time with this woman…a Miss Gloria Harper.Do you know her.

LADY

No, I don’t recognize her.

POLICEMAN

He spends a lot of time with her. And we have records of phone calls.

LADY

What kind of case are you making, sir.

POLICEMAN

I think you don’t know your husband, miss.

LADY

I know more than meets the eye, and that’s enough for me.

POLICEMAN

A faithful woman.

LADY

I try. I’m not perfect, but I try.

POLICEMAN

Have you always been this loyal?

LADY

That’s marriage.

POLICEMAN

You’re a beautiful woman, you could probably have your choice of any man.

LADY

Thank you.

POLICEMAN

So, why this man?

LADY

Everyone else is boring. People who pretend to be good, are hiding something.Even the saints know they’re sinners, but bad priests and policemen…try to seem perfect.What are your sins, officer? You throwing rocks from your own pile? Are you faithful to your wife? Have you always been?

POLICEMAN

I’m divorced.

LADY

Why?

POLICEMAN

(Pause) She was a liar.

LADY

Did she cheat?

POLICEMAN

I think so.

LADY

Well, I’m sorry about that.

POLICEMAN

So you don’t know about your husband’s involvement with this woman? Or do you pretend not to see his… discrepancies.

LADY

I see everything, sir. And I still love.Maybe that’s stupid, but love is stupid, and criminals deserve love—they need it just like you. Maybe you’re jealous of my husband.

POLICEMAN

He’s lucky in one department, I guess.

LADY

May I keep this picture.

POLICEMAN

Sure.

LADY

She’s pretty.

POLICEMAN

Not as pretty as you.

LADY

I know that. But that doesn’t matter in the moment.

POLICEMAN

Do you have doubts, Mrs. Flores?

LADY

Everybody has doubts, Mr. Warner. It’s how we go about living with them that matters.

POLICEMAN

Your husband will be going under trial when we find him.And there will be plenty of evidence against his character.

LADY

Well, this is the only part I’m interested in. (Pause) What did you say her name was?

POLICEMAN

Gloria. Harper. Gloria Harper.

LADY

Thank you. I heard you the first time.

POLICEMAN

So, you won’t testify against him? Or for him?

LADY

Like I said, sir, I didn’t marry someone to be perfect, or even to reflect the beliefs I know are true and good. I married my match. And we made a pact. And that’s the only thing I have to testify to. With God.The rest is your job. (Pause) Are we done?

POLICEMAN

Are you all right, Mrs. Flores?

LADY

Nancy. I’m fine. May I go?

POLICEMAN

I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m just trying to find out the truth.

LADY

Why?

POLICEMAN

Because somebody is always guilty.

LADY

Well, you definitely have strong evidence.

POLICEMAN

I’m sorry.

LADY

Why are we always looking to blame somebody? Do you solve anything with your killing and arresting, officer Warren? What does the law do for us except point a finger?

POLICEMAN

I don’t know. It gives us a sense of what’s right.

LADY

By showing us we’re always wrong?(Pause) We just had one rule… But everything gets broken.Everything is broken. We should have laws that fix things, don’t you think.I think, I think if what you’re saying is true…then my husband’s punishment should be, to have to love me anyway. And fuck me every night until he forgets every other woman he’s touched. As for your issue with him…I think you…and him…should go to all the homes you’ve broken…of all the people you’ve taken sons away from…and serve them. And instead of taxes…instead of them paying for the poison you shoot into criminals, and the prisons you build, people should have to pay with their hearts. And let you serve them.

POLICEMAN

Are you suggesting I serve you, Nancy?

LADY

I suggest you go to Carlos’ mother’s house with wine and a box of chocolates. And that you make my home his prison. My bed his cell… And send him out to work in the houses or work places of everyone he’s hurt along the way.

POLICEMAN

Mrs. Flores, for someone who knows how the world works, you sound very idealistic.

LADY

I guard myself from the world, Mr. Warren. It’s a shady place and it’s blind to the good. I’m an ignorant. Maybe you should be talking to someone else. Maybe this Miss Harper will have the answers you want.

POLICEMAN

All right. Thank you for your time.

LADY

Have a nice night. (Pause) And…fuck you, Mr. Warren.For looking for the bad. Seeking it out…

POLICEMAN

It can’t be ignored.

LADY

Did your divorce make you any happier? Was it…what’s the word, retribution, Mr. Warren? Did it give you peace?

POLICEMAN

Maybe ignorance is more peaceful, Mrs. Flores.

LADY

Maybe forgiveness is.

POLICEMAN

I’ll get the door for you, if you let me.

LADY

Fine.

POLICEMAN

(Pause) Will you forgive me, Nancy?

LADY

You didn’t do anything, Mr. Warren. It’s better to know the truth.

POLICEMAN

I think so too. But the truth hurts sometimes.

LADY

It does…but it what’s we think we have to do because of the truth that hurts even more.

Monday, October 4, 2010

I think that the first monologue written in this piece may have been the one where the mother is talking about how her son is just like a dog. This idea is central to the piece and may have been the author's first idea. To have a mother think of her son as a mere animal and not a person seems like it would have been a good jumping off point for the creation of this piece.

I woke up and for the first time the animals were gone from the snow covered grounds, the white winter wonderland where we’ve held them for too long, cold.And I’ve been held for too long, cold.I look out the window:winter, spring, summer, or fall, it’s always the same—acres and acres of lost dreams, won by chance.You won Henry, but think of what you lost.Think—don’t you remember?You wanted to be a writer once, why did you ever put down your pen?Don’t answer that.I know what you’re going to say, and you know it never mattered to me.You sacrificed your art, traded it in for marble counters and silk ties.You did it for me, for our future.But, you’ve made me put my dreams on the cutting board with yours- - don’t you see that?Everyday you ask me, “aren’t you happy?”Do I look happy?I’ve forgotten how to smile, Henry, how to laugh.

I used to sit and look at the stars, map out paths, lives, that I’d never remember, but they were mine.Each night I’d leap from constellation to constellation, never ending in the same place in the sky, but always knowing they’d lead me home.And then I’d be called in, too late to be sitting outside-- it wasn’t proper for a young lady… all the excuses they used to give to bind me.And I listened for a long while, but eventually time moved on, paths changed, and the stars faded, never leading me anywhere true.I couldn’t pretend anymore about what they wanted for me and I grew up.The great thing about growing up, Henry, was that I didn’t have to pretend anymore, I knew what I wanted.You.And from that, they couldn’t keep me.

You came to me that day, after I emptied my shoebox filled of childish memories, and threw away my pocket full of stars saved for rainy days.I’d told them that nothing could stop our love and if they didn’t want you they couldn’t have me.That wasn’t enough for them, so I packed my things and left.But, I didn’t go far; you had won our life in hand of poker and with it their approval.They thought you were rich, a gentleman made in an hour, and so did you.But what is money worth?Not this life.This life that I cannot live anymore.A life I’m sure I never mapped out, never wanted.

But where do I go from here?I’m more constricted than ever.Everyone ended up happily ever after, except me.They got the fairy tale wedding and all the riches that came along with it.And you?I wish I could say you only wanted me, but my name is too important for you to forget.You gallivant through town, throwing money here and there, just to make sure any visitor knows who is king of the mountain.You’re my prince charming, yet you refuse to save me.I’m still the same girl who would risk it all for a chance at happiness.And I did, but money has changed you into something that you’re not.Or maybe it’s made you who you really are.In any case, Henry, you aren’t the man I married any longer.And I can’t wait around hoping that one day you will be again.

Friday, October 1, 2010

Night. BOY enters stage right and feels his hand across the wall until he reaches a bureau. His free hand fumbles with a key hanging from his neck. There is a candle waiting to be lit on the bureau before him. GIRL is sitting across the room at a single table with two chairs in a wedding dress. Her face is streaked with make-up. A bottle of whiskey and a pack of cigarettes is at her side on the table. She is smoking.

GIRL: Need a light.

(flicks a book of matches between them. Boy catches them with his hand(OR)boy lets them fall at his side and stares at her for a long moment before proceeding to pick them up and light the candle on the bureau. Following, he reaches into his pocket in search of cigarettes. Finding none, he makes his way to the table and sits across GIRL)

GIRL: (You) Should have just allowed five years to morph into ten so I could learn to forget you altogether—

BOY: I AM here for the same reasons you ahe (sweets). Just like evvvverrry other time you or I have tried to convince ourselves o’ somethin’ different.

GIRL: Don’t feed me that bullshit again—

BOY: We are tied to this house—

GIRL: Give me the key—

BOY: You an’ me. Just like always. Always been, always wi—

GIRL: Jacob.

BOY: (grabs another cigarette from the pack and lights it, keeping his eyes on GIRL throughout the entire movement) Get yer own.

GIRL: (You know) I’d have to tear down the walls to do that.

BOY: What’s stopping you.

GIRL: I’m not that restless.

BOY: (leaning towards her, resting his arms on the table) Maybe I like you bettah restless.

GIRL: (copies movement of BOY and leans forward to rest her arms in the same position on table. Their faces now inches apart from one another.) And I like you better without that damn key around your neck.

BOY: Like the time you threw yer drink in the bahtendahs face aftah he tried tah kiss yer cheek—

GIRL: That was a long time ago.

BOY: Not long enough tah ferget—

GIRL: Some things are worth forgetting.

BOY: (reaches up to brush a strand of hair away from her eyes) Not all things. (his hand follows the outline of her chin and he brushes his thumb across her lips)(speaks softly)What happened to that spark burstin' inside you?

GIRL: It started a fire.

BOY: I didn’t come heya tah talk about fiyahs.

GIRL: It set everything in my life ablaze—

BOY: (continuing to caress her lips with his thumb) Like yer painting?

GIRL: (Grabs his wrist and holds it steady next to her face) (Stern) What did you say?

BOY: ( laughs mockingly) And…you think things haven’t changed? You think that, just because you cut yer hayha off yer head they don't (still) belong to me ( anymoah)? Those locks ahhe MINE—trashcan or nahht!—Evah since the first day I met you and said, “You can keep everythin’ else o’ yers, but these curls—“

GIRL: (whispers) Enough.

BOY: ARE MINE.

GIRL: (slams bottle on table between them) I said enough!

BOY: (Leans across table and grabs her wrists tightly) You haven’t changed at all. Nothin’ has changed. I still know every thought in yer head. I still feel every motion o’ yer body. You still belong to me—

GIRL: (rips her wrists from his grasp and stands up) (Oh) And that is just SOOOO convenient for you, isn’t it? One morning you’re caressing me as my lover and the next you disappear on another one of your forget-me-not hiatus! It’s been FIVE YEARS Jacob! You left me (here) for FIVE. YEARS. Without so much as a god damn post card and you expect me to sit here before you and act as if everything (can be) as it was?! (….)

(extended pause between dialogue)

GIRL: (calmly) Look at me Jacob.

BOY: I sent you the bureau.

GIRL: The bureau? (She stalks over hurridly to the bureau, her anger rising once more) THIS bureau?! ( starts pulling on the center drawer handle of the bureau aggressively as it begins to shake and create noise)

BOY: (Watching her, about to stand) WATCH THE CANDLE!

GIRL: This fucking bureau with no home and no key?! Is this really you’re (only) response?

BOY: It wasn’t time fer you tah open it--

GIRL: (Oh) Clearly. And it never will be.

BOY: Why do you think (I came back to you) I’m heyah now?

GIRL: (Because) I’m engaged.

BOY: Yer drunk.

GIRL: (walks toward him and bends down to put her face inches from his) SAAAAME thing darlin’—

BOY: Stop lieing.

GIRL: Unlock the FUCKING bureau—

BOY: Yer tryin’ tah run from yerself again—

GIRL: And we’ll see who the liar is—

BOY: But you ferget that I AM you sweets. It’s you an’ me. An’ this house.

GIRL: This house is built on fear. A fear of forgetting. But I’m not afraid of forgetting anymore Jacob.

BOY: Shit ton o’ good it’s doin’ ya. Yer still heya. At this table. In this house. Right wheya I left ya.

STUARTUh, yeah, I know. You don’t have to introduce yourself like you’re on the phone when you’re in person.

DAVEOh man, Stuart, you are hilarious! You should be a standup comedian. Anyway Stuart, I just got a wicked cool new electronic device, Stuart. And well Stuart... well I thought I should share it with you.

STUARTOh. Well, that’s cool I gu--

DAVEStuart, it’s a wonderful new invention. Brand new off the streets of Taiwan, Stuart. I don’t think anyone has one yet. Stuart, I just might be the first person ever to own one of these world changing devices.

STUARTUm. What is -

DAVEStuart, get ready. For I am about to show you this new device.

STUARTGreat.

DAVEStuart, what I have here is called a cellular mobile telephone. It allows me to make phone calls from anywhere in the world without actually being plugged into any sort of hard line, Stuart.

STUARTAlright... so did you install some sort of new app on it or something?

DAVEWhat? No, Stuart, no! Pay attention Stuart! I thought comedians were supposed to be good listeners. The new device is this cellular phone.

The two stare at each other for a moment. Dave looks proud of himself.

STUARTYeah, that’s not a new invention. Those have been around for like 20+ years.

DAVEWhat?

STUARTAre you... are you serious? Those are already a thing. They’re not... a new invention. Like at all.

DAVEStuart, you are hilarious! Look, there you go again with your standup comedy routine monologue! You’re a regular Erwin Beekveld. Ha!

STUARTWho the hell is Erwin Beekveld? And I’m... I’m really not joking. Those exist.

Dave looks at his phone.

DAVEI don’t think you’re right about this.

STUARTNo, I am. I’m definitely right.

DAVEWell Stuart. I just don’t know what to say.

STUARTI can’t believe they’ve... gotten by you.

DAVEStuart, let’s just put all this behind us. How bout we go and grab some melon flavored ale, eh?

STUARTI think I’m going to... decline. I have to go places.

DAVEMore standup comedy to do, Stuart? Ha!

STUARTNo, I’m not a comedian. I don’t even know how I know you. I’m gonna leave.

DAVEWell if you need me, just call me on my newfangled telephone device. They’re all the rage.